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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28885416">when we get all alone i'll make myself at home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilacfield/pseuds/thelilacfield'>thelilacfield</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Boss/Employee Relationship, Counter Sex, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Shameless Smut, plot if you squint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:26:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28885416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelilacfield/pseuds/thelilacfield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why do you keep calling me Mrs Strange? I’ve been divorced almost four months.”</p><p>“Because I have to. Otherwise, I...I forget that I...that we shouldn’t- I want you. I have to remind myself that you’re...you have a husband.”</p><p>“I don’t. I’m divorced. I left him. Vision...sweetie, I want you too.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wanda Maximoff/Vision</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>96</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>when we get all alone i'll make myself at home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>A/N:</strong> So...this is heavily inspired by Wanda's robe/lingerie in the first ep of <em>WandaVision</em>. It is just shameless smut strung together on the barest semblance of a plot. Enjoy! Leave a comment if you do! Stream <em>WandaVision</em>!</p><p>I'm on twitter and tumblr <strong>@mximoffromanoff </strong>if anyone wants to chat about all things scarletvision!</p><p>
  <strong>warning: mentions of past death of a sibling, mentions of (amicable) divorce. past wanda/strange. wanda is ten years older than vision.</strong>
</p><hr/><p>Natasha pours both of them another glass of champagne, and Wanda rolls her eyes, tucking her bare feet up beneath her. "I feel like I should be offended that you're celebrating me being divorced before thirty-five," she says, and her best friend dramatically rolls her eyes.</p><p>"<em>Please</em>, I know people who were divorced before <em>twenty</em>-five," she says, and clinks her glass against Wanda's. "I'm celebrating you freeing yourself from a man who wasn't right for you anymore."</p><p>"It was an <em>amicable</em> divorce, Nat-"</p><p>"And you are gonna be so much better off without him," she says, smirking, and Wanda shakes her head.</p><p>"You said you <em>liked</em> Stephen-"</p><p>"Oh, I did, when you were twenty-six and needed him," she says, uncurling her jean-clad legs. "But you're thirty-three now, and you two just weren't compatible anymore. Now you get the amazing house, the money from the divorce as well as your own money, <em>and</em> the chance to finally bang the poolboy."</p><p>She flushes, and takes a long gulp of champagne to distract herself. If she turns just slightly, she'll see Vision crouched over the pool, testing the chlorine level beneath the blazing sun. Maybe he'll even be shirtless, like she's only seen a few times, and considered herself lucky to have even seen. "I'm not <em>trying</em> to bang Vision-"</p><p>"Please, yes you are," Natasha says, and Wanda shifts on her couch, looking away from her friend's probing gaze. "I know that drawer full of lingerie upstairs isn't for Stephen's benefit-"</p><p>"It's a <em>healthy expression of my sexuality</em>-"</p><p>"So is sleeping with the poolboy you definitely hired for his ass now you're officially divorced," Natasha says, eyes gleaming wickedly.</p><p>"Stephen hired him," Wanda pouts, and Natasha laughs.</p><p>"Clearly a present for you since you were already sleeping in separate beds," Natasha teases, and Wanda scowls mutinously into her champagne. "Oh, come <em>on</em>, Wanda. Time for you to seize life by the balls and sleep with who you want to."</p><p>"He's my <em>employee</em>," she insists, all the mantras she's sternly told herself lying alone in bed at night and thinking about those pretty blue eyes. "And he's ten years younger than me, and-"</p><p>"He's adorable?" Natasha suggests, one eyebrow quirked high towards her hairline. "He's got an ass that won't quit? He's clearly into you?"</p><p>"He's not into me-"</p><p>"You are blind, Maximoff," she says. "Every time I'm here I notice him staring at you. You haven't got the diamond weighing you down anymore, so use your freedom wisely."</p><p>"And you think sleeping with my <em>poolboy</em> is wise?" Wanda asks, pouring herself another glass of champagne. If she drinks much more, her secrets are going to start spilling out, and she's going to tell Natasha that she's already slept with her poolboy a dozen times in the confines of her imagination.</p><p>"I do when he's as cute as Vision is," Natasha says, and winks, and Wanda shakes her head hopelessly.</p><p>"I'm telling Bruce you said that-"</p><p>"Hey, I'm allowed to window shop, I just can't purchase," she says, smugly adjusting the diamond engagement ring on her left hand. "But since you exercised your right to a return receipt-"</p><p>"Can you <em>please</em> stop discussing my relationship status in shopping metaphors?"</p><p>"You divorced Stephen, and that was what was best," Natasha says, and Wanda stares down at the bubbles shimmering on the surface of her champagne. She knows it was best. She's known since the first time she looked at Stephen and didn't see him the way she did when he proposed anymore. Signing her name on the papers this morning was possibly the best decision she's made in a long time. "And you're clearly attracted to Vision if nothing else. Just sleep with him."</p><p>A gentle knock comes at the door, and she calls out, "Come in, Vision!" And he appears in the doorway, blinking those baby blues between her and Natasha, and she adjusts herself on the couch, rucking up the skirt of her red dress ever so slightly. It has a very respectable neckline - she did, after all, attend the signing of her divorce papers in it - but that doesn't mean she can't adjust her shoulders back to push out her breasts.</p><p>She hopes she isn't imagining his gaze briefly flickering downwards and the slight flush in his cheeks when he says, "I'm finished with everything you asked me to do today. I can stay on and finish a few more things-"</p><p>"No, sweetie, it's okay, go home," she says, giving him a silky smile. "I'll see you Monday, okay?"</p><p>"Yes, Mrs Strange," he says softly.</p><p>"You know I signed the papers today, Vision," she says, and he flushes. "You can refer to me as Ms. Maximoff, now, okay? The offer to just call me Wanda always stands too."</p><p>"Sorry, Ms. Maximoff," he says, and something about her pre-marriage name in his soft voice twists hot in her stomach. As the door slides closed behind him, she stares after his retreating back down her driveway, and is only brought back to reality by Natasha laughing.</p><p>"He's not into you, huh?" she asks, and Wanda hurls a decorative pillow at her.</p><hr/><p>As the tabloids slowly stop covering the divorce of famed neurologist Stephen Strange and publishing mogul Wanda Maximoff, she finds it harder to resist Vision. Natasha's voice keeps playing through her mind, and she no longer has the ability to reach for her wedding ring to stop herself from inviting him in or trying to tempt him. The gold band and the diamond of her engagement ring are now both tucked away with her wedding dress, tucked into the back of a cupboard. She could get rid of it, but she looked good in that dress.</p><p>She does what any woman would after a divorce. She throws herself into work, reviewing manuscripts with love scenes that do very little to stop her replacing the generic muscular heroes with images of Vision. She has her hairdresser dye her hair red, and tries not to preen too much when people check her out on the street. There is only one person's attention that she's trying to get, that the devil on her shoulder is whispering for her to try to tempt.</p><p>And he's endlessly sweet. When he turns up to work the morning after she dyed her hair, she's drinking coffee on the porch, and he smiles at her and says, "You look lovely with red hair, Mrs Strange."</p><p>"Ms. Maximoff, sweetie," she corrects, and colour floods his cheeks. And when he looks like that it's like every fantasy she's ever had of him, golden hair falling in those pretty blue eyes and his bashful duck of his head. The devil on her shoulder whispering that she's not a married woman anymore and she doesn't have to control herself.</p><p>"Sorry, Ms. Maximoff," he says quietly, and when he looks up their eyes meet, and she hopes that she isn't the only one who feels the lightning bolt jump between them. "I, um...I should start my work."</p><p>"Wait." The word slips from her before she can stop herself, and he looks up. And she looks around for an excuse to have spoken, and finally says, "Sit with me. I can make you a tea?"</p><p>"Oh...I shouldn't-"</p><p>"Please, sweetie, I'm newly-divorced and lonely," she says, but adds a teasing smile to make sure he doesn't think she's genuinely upset. "I have herbal tea, I think. It's going to be hot out today, I should make sure you're hydrated."</p><p>And he sits down near her, so near that she comes alive with electricity. It's been so long since she felt like this with a man, not since the very early days of her and Stephen's relationship, and she tries not to let herself fall too far into her old flirtatious ways. But maybe she shouldn't feel bad. Not when she catches his eyes darting to the low neckline of her sundress and smirks slightly. "Don't you have to go to your office today?" he asks, and she shakes her head.</p><p>"I'm phasing out of running the place as heavily as I did," she says. "I want to be able to work from home more. It was intended to be when I wanted to start a family, but...since I'm newly-divorced, that's not happening anytime soon." She tries to sound light, but some sadness winds its way into her voice. Even if Stephen wasn't the right man in the end, there are still days where she regrets that leaving him has made it significantly harder to start the family she wants.</p><p>"Are you alright?" he asks softly, his eyes all concern resting on her. "The tabloids haven't been very considerate of your well-being. I...are you sad about the divorce?"</p><p>"Yes and no," she says, pushing away the thought that it's inappropriate to have this conversation with her employee. He's the one who asked. "I'd rather have done it now than we limp on for years, or God forbid have children to try to fix it. But I...I did love him desperately at one point. And it's always sad when you can't make something that was good work in the long run."</p><p>"I remember when you got married," he says softly, and she tries not to think too hard about it. At least she and Stephen made it to five years, even if they had already started sleeping in separate beds. "One of my friends was obsessed with your wedding dress."</p><p>"It's still upstairs," she says, and he smiles slightly. "I don't know. It's strange. I know it was for the best, and I'm not exactly weeping over our wedding photos. Maybe he was just what I needed at the time, and he isn't anymore."</p><p>"How did you meet him?" he asks, and then flushes. "Oh, Mrs Strange...Ms. Maximoff, you don't have to answer. I'm just curious."</p><p>"Wasn't our meet-cute splashed all over the tabloids when we got engaged?" she asks.</p><p>"But I want to hear it from <em>you</em>," he says, and something about the emphasis and the look in his eyes makes her heart beat faster. She crosses one leg over the other, and smirks to herself when his gaze drops to the way her skirt slides up her thighs.</p><p>"When my brother was in a car accident and died after three days in a medically-induced coma, Stephen was the doctor who practically tripped over me crying in the corridor," she says, and Vision flinches.</p><p>"I'm sorry, I don't mean to remind you-"</p><p>"It was seven years ago," she says softly. "And I've seen a good therapist since then. I'm fine." She shifts in her seat and continues, "He had this reputation for being an arrogant asshole, but I don't know. He softened with me, I guess. Helped me up off the floor and took me to the café and told the girl working there to make sure I got some food. I was still there when his shift ended, and he asked me out. And that's how it started." She flexes the bare fingers of her left hand and says, "He proposed six months later. Everyone said I was the luckiest girl in America."</p><p>"Did you love him?" he asks, blinking at her, and she bites the inside of her cheek. Something in Vision's voice has changed, strained, and she wonders if he's <em>jealous</em>.</p><p>"I did when we got married," she says. "But...things change. People change. I was in the worst place I'd ever been in when we met, and he was there while I rebuilt myself. But I guess I just...made myself into a woman who didn't love him anymore."</p><p>"You don't regret leaving?" he asks, and his eyes are heavy on her, and something in her feels torn open by the way he's looking at her.</p><p>"These are awfully deep questions for a casual breakfast, Vision," she says, and he retreats, flushing. "But...no, I don't regret leaving him. There's still plenty of time for me to fall in love with someone new. Someone who wants who I am now."</p><p>He stares at her for a long, loaded moment. And then suddenly jerks out of the chair with a hasty, "I should get to cleaning," and walks away. She watches him, the perfect shape of his ass, the width of his shoulders, and as she slides back inside something in her flips. She doesn't care about the boundaries between them. The way he looks at her makes her heart flutter the way it hasn't in years, and she's going to sleep with him. Come hell or highwater.</p><p>When she reemerges from the house, he's cleaning the pool, crouching over it with the sleeves of his white shirt tucked up over his forearms. And she waits for him to look up when her shadow falls across him, and for him to drop his skimmer directly into the water when he sees her. She is wearing a robe, of course. For modesty. Or lack thereof, given it's made of white silk.</p><p>"The news says it's only going to get hotter," she says, smiling down at him, his eyes still wide. "I thought I'd get some sun and maybe work on a tan." She gives him a look and says, "Feel free to get water whenever you want, sweetie. And change if you need to, I don't want you getting heatstroke."</p><p>"<em>Yes</em>..." He clears his throat, and says, "Yes, Ms. Maximoff. I feel fine, but I will be careful."</p><p>"Good," she says, practically <em>purrs</em>, and watches his throat cord as he swallows thickly.</p><p>She does give him five minutes of respite while she lounges by the side of the pool, reading. Then she looks up at him over her sunglasses, crouched over the pool, and softly calls out, "Vizh? Could I get some help?"</p><p>"What can I do for you?" he asks, almost brusque. She would think he's sending signals for her to stop being silly and put some clothes on, if it wasn't for how much he's blushing, the way she can see his gaze fall to her breasts when she opens her robe, leaving herself in only a red bikini.</p><p>"Oil my back?" she asks, looking up at him through her lashes. "And then feel free to take my sunscreen. I don't want you getting burned."</p><p>"I-"</p><p>"I can't reach myself, no matter how much yoga I do," she says, and when she looks up at him his eyes are wide and his face is crimson. But he still kneels down next to her, as she folds her robe aside and rolls onto her stomach, burying her smirk in the sun-warmed tiles that edge the pool.</p><p>She swallows a gasp when she feels his hands on her. His fingers are long and pleasantly cool on her skin, smoothing the oil into her back with skilful movements, and her mind is a complete traitor. Already imagining how his hands would feel on other, decidedly less innocent parts of her body, curved over her ass or her breasts, and an almost silent groan leaves her lips. His hands still, and she wonders if he heard her.</p><p>But then he presses harder into her shoulders, right where she gets tense, and she bites the inside of her cheek to muffle another groan. His hands sweep down the curve of her spine, almost to the waistband of her bikini bottoms, and despite being so <em>into</em> how shy he is she wishes he was bolder. She wishes he was someone who would touch her where she wants to be touched, slides those clever fingers between the apex of her thighs and give her what she wants.</p><p>"Wait," she breathes when his hands start to move away, and turns her head to look at him. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are dark with arousal, and even though she tells herself not to look her gaze dips to his crotch. "Untie my top. I don't want a tan line."</p><p>"Y-yes, Ms. Maximoff," he breathes, and reaches for the tie. His hands are shaking, she can feel them against her back, and she daydreams of other circumstances where he would be untying her clothes. What might happen if she rolled onto her back and just let him see her half-naked.</p><p>"Thank you, sweetie," she says, and turns her head to give him a bright smile. He nods, and walks a tad too quickly away from her. And she smirks as she tucks her forehead comfortably down onto her folded arms, daydreaming about the pretty sizeable bulge she saw in his shorts.</p><hr/><p>Something about getting Vision to touch her cracked the boundary of professional distance between them. She can get him to eat breakfast with her most mornings she isn't in the office now, sometimes lunch too. He's handsome in her home, those blue eyes always resting on her with something that makes her feel like flying, and she's getting increasingly frantic to know what it's like to be with him. To run her fingers through his hair and watch those eyes fall closed before she kisses him and feel those big, clever hands on her body again.</p><p>He's finishing up a final task for the day, and she's already a glass of wine in. Or she wouldn't swing herself out onto the porch and say, "Vizh? I made too much pasta. Do you want some before you go home?"</p><p>She pours him a glass of wine too, and thrills at the way he looks lounging on the floor of her living room. The TV is playing something inane in the background, and she wonders if he's as aware of her as she is of him. He's wearing the usual uniform of a white T-shirt and shorts, and she's staring at the spot near his hip where water has left the material see-through. She feels alive with electricity, how close he is, how <em>alone</em> they are. Anything could happen.</p><p>He lingers after they've finished eating and she's put the dishes away in the kitchen, long legs stretched out in front of him. And he slides his hands down his thighs before he says, "Mrs Strange, I should-"</p><p>"Why do you keep calling me Mrs Strange?" she asks softly, and the energy in the room feels charged. Anticipatory. Something could happen, if they only let it. "I've been divorced almost four months."</p><p>"I...I forget," he says, and a flush is stealing into his cheeks.</p><p>"You remember sometimes," she says. "You only...you only call me Mrs Strange when we're having a moment." She gestures between them, and he ducks his head.</p><p>"Because I have to," he says softly, and she slides closer to him, her feet brushing against his thigh. And his gaze drags up her legs, lingering almost hungrily on the hem of her skirt, heat shimmering into her stomach.</p><p>"Why?" she asks, and his eyes find hers, his pupils dark and wide with arousal.</p><p>"Otherwise, I...I forget that I...that we shouldn't-" He gulps, his eyes darting away from hers. "I want you. I have to remind myself that you're...you have a husband."</p><p>"I don't," she whispers, hardly daring to raise her voice, like the fragile moment will shatter if she moves. "I'm divorced. I left him."</p><p>"It hasn't been long, we still shouldn't-"</p><p>"I fell out of love with him more than a year before I signed the papers," she breathes. "Vision...sweetie, I want you too."</p><p>"Mrs...Ms. Maximoff, <em>don't</em>," he says, voice strangled, <em>turned on</em>, and she shifts closer to him, leaning down towards him. They're a breath from kissing when he looks up again, and his eyes are so dark, his lips parting. "We-"</p><p>"Tell me to stop," she says. And he stares at her lips for a long, silent moment before he gives a tiny shake of his head.</p><p>She leans down and captures his waiting lips in a kiss, and his arms lift around her neck. They're so awkwardly placed for kissing, and she breaks away to thrill at his whine of protest, grabbing a handful of his shirt and pulling him onto the couch and on top of her. His lips are soft against hers, and he's so tall on top of her, as she runs her hands over everywhere she's wanted to touch. His shoulders, the sweep of his back, and finally grabbing his ass, pulling his hips down onto hers, rewarded with him breaking the kiss in a groan of, "<em>Wanda</em>."</p><p>"I have wanted you since your first day," she says, brushing his hair out of his eyes, smiling up at him. "You are so sexy. <em>God</em>, I've been staring at you since the first time I saw you."</p><p>"Really?" he asks softly, and she pulls him down into another kiss. When his lips part above hers she slips her tongue into his mouth, and his hand tightens on the back of her head, tugging slightly on her hair. She wraps her legs around his hips, her skirt sliding down around her thighs, and arches herself into him, taking the hand he has in her hair and pulling it down to curve over her breast.</p><p>His tongue shyly sweeping into her mouth and the way he gently touches her pulls a groan of, "<em>Baby</em>," from her lips, and he groans against her lips, hand groping vaguely at the back of her dress until she giggles and pushes him up. "It's a side zip," she breathes, and he flushes as she tugs the zipper down.</p><p>She takes the opportunity to switch their positions, pushing him onto his back and climbing on top of him, tugging his shirt over his head and running her hands down the flat planes of his chest. "Look at you," she breathes, their heavy breathing mingling hot in the air between them. "You're gorgeous."</p><p>"<em>Oh</em>...I...thank you," he breathes shyly, and his eyes go wide as she slides the top half of her dress down, exposing the scarlet lace of her bra to his eager gaze. "Oh my <em>God</em>-"</p><p>"You did seem to like my boobs when I let you oil me," she teases, and his ears are bright red. She kisses them, slowly dragging her mouth down his neck, his fingers contracting against the small of her back, and she breathes, "I can't stop thinking about your hands on me. You felt so good."</p><p>"I...I touched myself that night thinking about you," he says in a breathy rush, and she sits back on his thighs, tucking her fingers beneath his chin to keep his gaze steady on hers. "What...what might have happened if we'd gotten carried away."</p><p>"I can show you," she says softly, and kisses him again, pulling both his hands up to cover her breasts. He squeezes, and she groans and twists her hands up behind her to unclasp her bra, lay herself bare for him. He stares at her, and almost tentatively reaches up to roll her nipple between two fingers. It draws a gasp of, "<em>Vizh</em>," from her, and she grinds her hips into his as she returns to kissing him, dirty open-mouthed kisses.</p><p>He breaks the kiss for his lips to drag down her neck, until he reaches her breasts and takes a nipple in his mouth, and she moans and arches her hips hard into him, rubbing herself over the length of his erection. "You're <em>obsessed</em>," she breathes, and he laughs against her skin. "Don't stop, baby."</p><p>He only does to switch to her other breast, hand playing with the one his mouth isn't on, and she grinds into him, aching for more even as she wonders if she could come just from the plush heat of his mouth and his wonderful hands. She has to say, "<em>Stop</em>," out loud for him to pull away, his eyes dark and his lips swollen, and he blinks blearily up at her, eyes glazed with lust. "Do you have a condom?"</p><p>His handsome face falls, and he mournfully says, "No. Are you on birth control?"</p><p>"No," she says, and stops arching into his erection regretfully. "Couldn't stay on it, it fucked with my head too much. <em>Fuck</em>, I want you so bad."</p><p>"I know I'm clean," he says softly, and his eyes are shining. "Are you?"</p><p>"Yes," she breathes, and he's sliding her out of his lap, his hands reaching to pull her dress off her hips and entirely away from her, leaving only her underwear between her and whatever he wants.</p><p>"I have wanted to...to be between your legs since I met you," he breathes, and his hands are on her thighs, and she's staring at him. "Ms. Maximoff...Wanda...may I?"</p><p>"Kiss me," she breathes, and he practically launches himself across the couch to her, their lips crashing together in a hot tangle of mouths, tongue and teeth and shared breath. He's gently laying her fully on her back, and kissing down her neck, lavishing attention on her nipples until she's keening his name, kissing slowly down her heaving abdomen. He skips over where she wants him to her thighs, his lips so soft, and she grabs a handful of his hair and jerks him up to meet her eyes. "<em>Now</em>, baby."</p><p>"Whatever you want," he breathes, a promise she plans on remembering, and pulls her underwear down. She spreads her legs for him, and his lips find her clit immediately, pulling a thin scream from her and jolting her hips up into his mouth.</p><p>"<em>Baby</em>...oh my God, <em>Vizh</em>, <em>fuck</em>." She reaches down to sweep his hair away from his forehead, to see his pupils blown so wide with arousal there's only a thin line of pretty blue left around them, and he moans against her, humming through her. "Fingers, baby. I'm not eighteen anymore, I can't come just because someone knows where the clit is."</p><p>She's so wet he can plunge two fingers into her without preamble, and she clenches hard around him, reaching down to play with her breasts. They're wet from his mouth, red marks on her skin from how eager he was, and when he <em>sucks</em> she screams, the words spilling out of her frantically. "Harder, baby, <em>please</em>...fuck me harder, <em>fuck</em>, right there..." She looks blearily down at him, and sees his hips moving, grinding down onto the couch, and her head spins. "Oh <em>fuck</em>, you really like this, huh, baby?"</p><p>"<em>Yes</em>," he gasps, breath hot against her clit, and she arches up against him, clenching down on his fingers and tugging hard on her nipples. His fingers curl just right inside her and she <em>wails</em>, his name and a stream of obscenities, grinding down hard onto his face as she comes.</p><p>"<em>Fuck</em>," she breathes, and hisses as he withdraws his fingers. He looks up at her, his face flushed and a satisfied grin on his swollen lips, and she pulls him up to kiss her. His erection digs into her stomach, hard as a rock, and she smirks up at him when they break apart. "What do you want, baby?"</p><p>"Oh...you don't have to-"</p><p>"Baby, I haven't come that hard in <em>years</em>," she whispers, and he blushes. "It's the least I can do." She snakes a hand down between them to the button of his shorts, pushing her palm into the shape of his cock and watching his eyelashes flutter. "Besides, I wanna know if you're as big as you look."</p><p>"I...oh <em>God</em>," he breathes as she presses her hand harder against him, until his hips start to grind into her palm. "<em>Wanda</em>...oh <em>shit</em>, you're so beautiful, I'm so close-"</p><p>"Hand or mouth, baby?" she asks, and he groans, eyes falling closed. She pulls her hand away, and his eyes fly open again, betrayal splashing across his handsome face. "You are not coming in your pants grinding on my hand like a teenager. I'm at least seeing your cock before I make you come."</p><p>"Oh <em>fuck</em>, I...your mouth," he whispers, and blushes. "I mean...if you want to."</p><p>"On your back," she says, and crawls over him, pulling the zip of his shorts down and tugging them down his legs. He's gazing up at her like she's the second coming of some divine being as she eases his underwear down, and she wraps a hand around his cock and twists, his head falling back and her name falling roughly from his lips. "You're so big," she purrs, and his eyes fall bashfully away from hers. "Baby, it's a compliment."</p><p>"I-"</p><p>"I'm going to fuck you next time," she promises, and he groans, his hips arching up into her touch. "When we have a condom. I'm going to make you want until I come on this cock. You're going to scream my name."</p><p>"<em>Wanda</em>," he breathes, and she leans down and sinks her mouth around him, and he chokes out, "<em>Fuck</em>." Her hand stays wrapped around the root of him, her tongue twisting over the tip of his cock, and she looks up to meet his eyes, staring down at her wide and dark. "Shit, <em>shit</em>, I'm not going to last, I...you don't have to...<em>shit</em>-"</p><p>He comes with a choked off gasp of her name, and she swallows and crawls up on top of him, capturing his slack mouth in a kiss. "Oh my <em>goodness</em>," he breathes, and she giggles and kisses him again, his hand curving over the small of her back, their sweat-slick bodies pressed together. "Would there be anywhere open to buy condoms this time of night?"</p><p>"I don't know if I can handle all that tonight," she says with a pointed glance down, and he flushes. "Next time, baby. I promise."</p><hr/><p>She can't stop smirking every time she sees Vision outside, mowing the lawn. He's not wearing a shirt, his slender torso laid out for her eyes to devour, and she's leaning on the counter and watching him. He must know she's looking, and she doesn't look away when he finds her eyes through the window. She winks, and watches him almost run over his foot with the lawnmower.</p><p>He appears in the doorway after the sputter of the lawnmower's engine stops breaking the peace of the day, shirtless and smiling shyly at her, and she smirks at him. "Break time, baby?" she asks, and he ducks his head, hair falling in his eyes.</p><p>"For lunch, Wanda," he says, and she takes his hand to pull him close, lifting herself onto her tiptoes and kissing him.</p><p>"I could be lunch," she says, and he laughs and kisses her, his hands framing her face, her fingers curled into his shoulders.</p><p>"Actually," he breathes, and his eyes are dark, flickering down over her, the light dress she's wearing in the hot day, "I have condoms in my bag."</p><p>"And why didn't you tell me that as soon as you got here this morning?" she asks, and he smirks.</p><p>"Must have slipped my mind," he teases, and she jerks him down into a kiss, running her fingers teasingly down his chest. "Do you want me to get it?"</p><p>"I made you a promise, didn't I?" she asks, and he stumbles away from his bag, pulling the tiny square packet from the front pocket. She snatches it from him, spinning it between her fingers, bottom lip pulled between her teeth in a teasing look. "Where do you want to go, baby?"</p><p>"I-"</p><p>"How about right here?" she asks softly, and hops up onto the counter, pulling him towards her and spreading her legs around his hips. He gulps, and she cups his face between her hands, dropping a soft kiss on his lips. "How's this for you?"</p><p>"I just want to feel you," he says softly, and she crosses her ankles at his back and pulls him into a kiss, pulling his hands up to her breasts and arching into him. It gives her such a thrill, how quickly she can get him hard, have his erection pushing into her and him groaning against her mouth when she reaches down to touch him.</p><p>"Pants off," she breathes, and tugs her dress up over her head, crumpling it to the floor and unclasping her bra. His gaze drops to her breasts, wide-eyed with wonderment, and she laughs. "What is it with you and my boobs?"</p><p>"You're beautiful," he breathes, and she melts, tugging him into a kiss. He whines against her mouth when she shoves her hand beneath the waistband of his underwear to wrap around his erection, jerking him off, and pulls out of the kiss to breathe, "<em>Don't</em>. I want...I want to be inside you."</p><p>"You might need to warm me up first," she teases, and he blushes. Though there's a pleased little smirk on his lips, and she slides his hand up her thigh, arching her hips against him. "Kiss me and finger me, baby."</p><p>She shudders and rolls her hips into him when he slides a finger into her, dropping her mouth to his neck and sucking a bruise into his skin. He groans her name and plunges another finger into her, and she shivers and clenches down on him, curling her fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. "I want you so bad," she breathes, and he shudders, turning his head to kiss her, his tongue in her mouth as a third finger slides into her and she bucks her hips up against his hand with a soft cry of his name.</p><p>He breaks the kiss first, pressing their foreheads together, and she nods before he can ask the question. "Are you sure?" he asks, and she kisses him, gently taking his wrist in her hand and withdrawing his fingers from her. She slides herself forward on the counter and rips open the condom packet, rolling it down onto him and revelling in the soft groan he lets out when she touches him. "<em>Wanda</em>...I've wanted this for <em>so long</em>-"</p><p>"Me too," she breathes, and drops a kiss on his lips. "Go slow at first, okay? You're fucking big." He nods, and inches forward, and she inhales sharply and breathes, "<em>Fuck</em>," when he presses slowly into her, stretching her the deeper he goes.</p><p>"Are you okay?" he asks softly, and she nods, digging her nails into the back of his neck, pressing her face into his shoulder and taking deep breaths as he sinks into her to the hilt, stilling when he's completely inside her. They're both silent for a moment, before he breathes, "Oh <em>God</em>...<em>fuck</em>, you're so <em>tight</em>."</p><p>"Because you're so <em>big</em>," she breathes, and lifts her head to look at him. His eyes are wide, dark with want, and she brushes a thumb gently down his cheek. "You feel so good."</p><p>"I don't want to hurt you-"</p><p>"Okay, you're not that big, don't flatter yourself," she says, and smiles into his eyes. "It's okay, baby. I'll take the lead."</p><p>She pulls his hand down to her back, supporting her as she starts to move, grinding up against him. The nerves fade from his face and he starts to thrust to match her, and she gasps at the sensation of him inside her, pressing their mouths together in a messy kiss. His hand slides down her stomach to her clit, thumb circling and making her gasp, "<em>Fuck</em>," as he moves a little faster, pulling her closer.</p><p>"Are you going to make fun of me if I want to suck your nipples right now?" he asks softly, and she shakes her head, crying out when his head dips down and the wet heat of his mouth lands on her breasts. She grabs for his hair, tugging, barely balancing as her other hand reaches down to grab a handful of his ass and make him move faster, gasping against the side of his head.</p><p>"Vizh, <em>baby</em>, stop," she groans, and he jerks upright immediately, hips stilling and making her whine in disappointment. "I need deeper, baby." She braces herself on her hands, leaning back and undulating her hips to meet his thrusts, to make him hit that spot inside her that pulls a cry of his name from her lips. "Right there, <em>fuck</em>, touch me." Her eyes are half-closed as she moves against him, but she sees him suck the tip of his finger before his hand returns to her clit, and spits, "<em>Fuck</em>, you're so <em>sexy</em>."</p><p>"Is this right?" he asks, and she nods, dizzy with sensation, pressure building at the base of her spine as his fingers circle her clit. "Wanda...<em>Wanda</em>, you're so beautiful. I'm going to...I'm going to come so hard."</p><p>"I'm so <em>close</em>, baby," she whispers, and he leans down to kiss her. His tongue in her mouth, his fingers on her clit, his cock inside her, it all drives her over the edge with a cry of his name, shuddering against him. "Oh, <em>fuck</em>." She blinks the haze out of her eyes and looks up at him, his face red with holding back, his hips buried in her, the way he's trembling, and smiles. "Go ahead, baby. Come for me."</p><p>"Thank you," he breathes, and there are four more short, sharp jerks of his hips before he chokes out her name and comes. She rights herself, their eyes meeting, and tangles her arms around his neck to kiss him, stroking his hair and his back and everywhere she can reach.</p><p>"That was amazing," she breathes, and tilts their foreheads together, running her thumb gently over his lower lip. "Vizh...are you okay?"</p><p>"Overwhelmed," he says, and she giggles and kisses him. He blinks dazedly at her when she pulls away, and gives her a dopey smile. "You're amazing."</p><p>"You're not so bad yourself," she teases, but something in his gaze makes her tremble. He leans in for another kiss, slow and tender, just the two of them tangled in possibilities on the kitchen counter.</p><hr/><p>Vision's fingers bite into her hips, and she rocks her hips harder on top of him, balancing herself on his chest. "<em>Fuck</em>," she gasps, and he groans in agreement. "Okay, best position. You're so sexy on your back for me."</p><p>"You're beautiful," he whispers, and she leans down to kiss him, changing the angle and making her moan. "Oh <em>fuck</em>, oh <em>fuck</em>, I'm going to come, <em>Wanda</em>-"</p><p>"Let go, baby," she breathes, and he does, grip on her harder for a moment. She rolls off him, head light with the aftermath of her orgasm, and smiles at him across her bed. When he opens his eyes, closed with bliss, she whispers, "Hi," and he reaches across the bed to kiss her.</p><p>After she's cleaned herself up and disposed of the condom, she returns to bed, and he curls over her, head on her stomach above the sheet she's tugged up to cover herself as her hands run though his hair. "I should go," he says, and she groans faintly. "My bus is-"</p><p>"Stay," she breathes, and he glances up at her, his eyes bright. "I'll pay for a cab. I have an unopened bottle of expensive whiskey downstairs that we could try breaking open."</p><p>"I hate whiskey," he says, and she laughs.</p><p>"Me too, shitty idea," she says, and runs her fingers gently through his hair. "But will you stay? Just a bit longer?"</p><p>"I...I could stay the night," he says, and she smiles. "I mean...I'm due at work at 8am tomorrow, and it's already 8pm. It seems silly to go back to my apartment to come back here when I'm already in bed."</p><p>"I make a mean plate of waffles," she says, and he grins when she leans down to kiss him.</p><p>His hand is reaching up to her hair when they're startled apart by the doorbell buzzing, and he hisses, "<em>Damn</em>," as she slides out from beneath him and grabs for her dressing gown, belting it around her waist and running a hand through her wild post-sex hair as she descends the stairs and open the door.</p><p>"<em>Stephen</em>?" Her ex-husband is standing in the doorway, still in his hospital scrubs, and she immediately draws her dressing gown tighter around her, wondering if there are marks on her neck, if he can somehow see through the cloth to the hickies scattered across her breasts and stomach. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>"I got home from nine straight shifts, and was looking for my vintage Scotch, and realised you still have it," he says, and she blushes slightly. "I take it you haven't drunk it?"</p><p>"You know I hate whiskey," she says, and pads away from the door to the liquor cabinet, retrieving the amber bottle for him. "This couldn't have waited, Stephen?"</p><p>"I actually wanted to talk to you," he says. "And I didn't think we should give the paparazzi the opportunity to catch us talking in a café." He takes a deep breath, runs a hand through his hair, and says, "I'm seeing someone."</p><p>"Oh." She can't be surprised, of course. They've been divorced for six months. She has Vision naked in her bed upstairs. "Who?"</p><p>"You're not going to like it," he says, and she folds her arms, arching an eyebrow. And he raises his wrist and shows her his watch. "It's Christine."</p><p>"Oh...the 'time will tell how much I love you' watch," she says. The cause of their first fight when she found it in a drawer and pressed him until he told her about the one that got away. And she blinks until she can steady herself and say, "I'm happy for you, Stephen."</p><p>"Are you seeing anyone?" he asks, and she instinctively shakes her head. "Really? Then why is there a pair of men's shoes over there?"</p><p>She glances back at Vision's shoes abandoned in the hallway, and blushes. "I...it's not serious yet," she says. "It's just...casual."</p><p>"Staying the night seems very casual," he says, and she blushes. "Does he make you happy?"</p><p>"Yes," she whispers, without a second's hesitation. "And he's upstairs, so if you don't mind-"</p><p>"It's nice to have a positive relationship with my ex-wife," he says, and she cracks a small smile. He always did make her laugh, right up to the end. "Well, if you choose to make it serious, Christine thinks we should have dinner together. Amicable relationships with exes are important to her."</p><p>"I'll think about it," she says, and he smiles. "Goodnight, Stephen."</p><p>He leans down, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around her for a moment, and brushes his lips to her cheek before he softly says, "Your bit of casual is on the stairs. And I don't think casual means you look that devastated when you see someone you're sleeping with with their ex."</p><p>She whips around to Vision on the stairs, his eyes wounded looking at her, and she slams the door on Stephen and says, "Baby, it wasn't-"</p><p>"I'm your bit of casual?" he asks, and she winces. "I thought...I don't know what I thought, I...I thought we were <em>dating</em>."</p><p>"Vizh, I'm ten years older than you," she says, and climbs the stairs to him, cupping a hand gently to his face. "I thought...I don't know, I was a novelty fling."</p><p>"What, <em>no</em>!" he protests, sounding utterly scandalised at the thought. "Wanda, I l-...I <em>like </em>you. I thought we were <em>dating</em>. I told my friends I had a <em>girlfriend</em>."</p><p>"Oh my <em>God</em>, I'm too old for this shit," she murmurs, and he laughs. A soft breath of it, but a laugh all the same. "Do you want to date?"</p><p>"<em>Yes</em>."</p><p>"Even though I'm ten years older than you and divorced and currently technically your <em>boss</em>-"</p><p>He silences her with a kiss, awkward with her a few steps below him. He must think so, because he grabs her waist and switches their positions so their faces are level, breaking away with a last tender brush to her lower lip. "I want to date you," he says softly. "I'd be <em>proud</em> to date you."</p><p>"I'm gonna need a new poolboy," she says softly, and he smiles and tilts his head for another, lingering kiss.</p>
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